soft spoken girl poking holes in my torso with her words and her nailsshe inhales short sharp breaths, piercing my eardrums and exposing my nerves, sounds that sound a lot like love would. sensitive teeth sink into collarbones,and we both hurt. and we both want to.pressed against me slowly bleeding into my pores. i'll smell her on my skin for weeks and months on end.salt stains that won't wash out.hard times, strange vibes.bad luck. short lived, she saidjust friends.

irma in the distanceit was cold and the sheep were bleating.your hands had made there way undermy shirt, tracing your warmth on my back.

we had talked for hours,about politics and food,and tattoos and love.showing me a sliver of your mind.

you kissed me like you would die without my breath. you took my hand and showed me inside and asked if i wanted to brush my teeth. you gave me one of your extras. the entire time in your bathroom you ran your hands all over me, and we discussed our preferences in perfumes, and the color of each other's eyes. in the bedroom we had a race to see who could get naked the fastest, and you won. we laid under the covers and kissed, everywhere, and you whispered,

"i don't love you, you know"

i said "okay". you continued, "but i like you, a lot, i think you're so damn cute. kiss me." and so i did, forever. i feel like i still am. i could create a home out of your bed and cocoon in there for the rest of eternity.

i leave for europe in three days. you haven't texted me, or anything. your passion has left a mark on me that i will have for a very long time, a mark i will cherish with every part of my soul. these fleeting connections created have left me with bruises on my neck; i have a necklace of lovers that could have been and you're the deepest one of all.

I am the blessedand the cursed,the simple and complex,thriving on faith,dying under the weightof wasted dreamsI will surviveso I take every ashen scrapof burned dreamwith them build the stepsup which I climbto the placewhere I belong.

skin melts. my fingers fumble aroundholding the flesh onto my faceor it'll drip into a puddle in my lapi can't control my body heat when she speaks so sweetlyi get a strong sugar rush and collapseinto myself like sticky liquid. overflowing.i want to melt into the floorboards. it's hot.she's hot like chilli and chocolate.i like it.

i'm a pompous, writhing, childish mess,trying to hold my flesh togetherand best express myself with wordsthat trick her tastebuds into tasting her favourite flavours. i want to make herfeel hot like i'm chilli and chocolateon her tongue.i want to make her melt into the floorboardsso i can pull them up and dive intothe bubbling pool of skin she'll becomeunderneath them.

i noticed my mother's front teethare chipped just like minethe same small dent in her left hand caninelike i got from chewing steelengrossed unflinchinguntil i was spitting up white knivesor swallowing them whole.i can still pick pieces from my tonsils.

she can't have made mistakes like that,what would make her bear her teethand how could they ever break?that's not the person who raised me.

i'll watch you swim. seize the day.from a distance where i can still hear the little winged love birds singing in the canopies. and cicadas chirp at dusk.

there's days to come i'll remember thisand wish i had the guts to be even waist deep in the seajust to be close to you.when the rain paints a river on the hillside i sit upon. my teeth chatter 'til they crack, and you were here once (but now you're not).

feel free to knock out a fewof your sweet teeth,so you can get down to businessdrinking this bitter bean juice

i keep screaming that it's just. not. smart.if you keep cutting ties, you'll never get a job.for one thing,short ties look unprofessionalyou'll not make much of an adultwithout some more supportyou need to put yourself out thereand find it on your own

the real world is scaryif the window cleaner would dig a little deeperand you were less blinded by the shine of my bleached teethi'm sure it would be clear